


Weevil Hunting

by Charity_Angel



Series: Weevil Hunting [1]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: Humor, M/M, Semi-Public Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-29
Updated: 2014-06-29
Packaged: 2018-02-06 17:29:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1866288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charity_Angel/pseuds/Charity_Angel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Jack and Ianto partake in their favourite sport, Gwen and Tosh bond over a new radio station and Owen gets really frustrated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Weevil Hunting

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place during Season 2, some time after 'Reset'/'Dead Man Walking'/'A Day in the Death'.

Jack sighed as he threw the SUV round a corner.

“This was not how I planned spending tonight,” he said to his partner.

Ianto looked over at him, a single eyebrow raised. “Did you have plans, sir?”

Jack kept his eyes firmly on the road, mostly in order to stop himself grinning. “Thought I might see if I can persuade this gorgeous guy at work to have dinner with me, then take me back to his place and see how things go from there.”

“Really?” Ianto kept his voice bland. “Weevil’s just off to the left. Do I know this man, sir?”

“You’ve probably seen him around,” Jack said. “About my height, slim, looks delicious in a suit, fabulous butt, brightest blue eyes you’ve ever seen.”

The SUV skidded to a halt.

“Should I be jealous?” Ianto asked as he jumped from the car, unholstering his gun as he did so.

Jack flashed his trademark grin over the bonnet of the SUV. “I don’t know, should you?”

Ianto threw a can of Weevil spray at him. “I think I should be. You’re trading me in for a younger model, aren’t you?”

Jack was at his side in a flash, completely ignoring the Weevil they were supposed to be after in order to kiss him soundly. “Never,” he promised.

The Weevil growled, drawing their attention.

 

.oOo.

 

“Tosh, what are you doing?”

Tosh’s eyes flickered open as she sat upright in her chair. She shushed Gwen and gestured for her to join her. “Jack and Ianto are Weevil hunting. I’m keeping an eye on the comms.”

Gwen looked sceptical, so Tosh popped the channel onto speaker. There was some grunting from both men, Jack’s laughter, then the tell-tale growl of a Weevil.

“Oh my God, they’re _actually_ hunting a Weevil?” Gwen’s eyes were wide. “I thought that was a euphemism.”

Tosh gave her a wicked smile. “Give it a few minutes,” she advised, her eyes gleaming mischievously.

 

.oOo.

 

Jack held the Weevil tightly to his front, rolling them both over so that Ianto could finally spray it in the face. It had given them quite a battle, and they were both breathing hard as they clamped its hands and secured it. Jack found himself pressed up against the side of the SUV, Ianto’s mouth on his, kissing him fiercely.

“Have you got any idea how good you look?” Ianto asked when they parted, his voice low. “Fuck dinner; let’s go straight back to mine.”

“Good plan,” Jack said as Ianto attacked his neck, biting his way down to the join with his shoulder. “Or…”

The pause was necessitated by Ianto shoving his hand down the front of Jack’s trousers. “Or now. Now is good too. But aren’t you forgetting something, Ianto?”

That caught his partner’s attention: Ianto took the tiniest of steps backwards, slipping his hand out of Jack’s pants. His eyes were dark with lust, and Jack knew he was going to enjoy flooring the young man with what he was about to say.

“I want to treat the birthday boy.”

Desired reaction achieved; Ianto appeared completely stunned.

“You… you remembered?” he stammered.

“Of course I did," Jack assured him. “You can unwrap your main gift later, but for now, I think you deserve a little something.”

Jack had them reversed before Ianto really knew what was happening. He knelt before Ianto and deftly undid his formerly pristine suit trousers. Gentle hands slid his trousers and boxers down just enough to expose him, and Jack took him into his mouth.

 

.oOo.

 

Gwen stared, wide-eyed at Tosh as she worked out precisely what they were listening to.

“Just how often do you do this?”

Tosh shrugged. “When I get the chance. Ianto tends to forget about the comms in the heat of the moment.”

“And Jack doesn’t care.”

Tosh shook her head.

“Does he know?”

Another shrug from the tech. “I really don’t know. I try not to think too much, just enjoy the show.”

There was a particularly loud, obscene groan, capturing both women’s attention.

“Definitely better than BBC Radio Wales,” Gwen said quietly, finally pulling up a chair and relaxing.

 

.oOo.

 

Jack was enjoying his birthday surprise for Ianto, keeping his mouth working to bring Ianto just to the edge whilst his hands had free reign, and alternated between Ianto’s balls and his gorgeous, pert arse. He deftly, one-handedly, opened the ever-present tube of lube in his pocket, squirted it onto a single finger and pressed it to Ianto’s opening, sliding it in with little resistance.

 

.oOo.

 

Gwen’s eyes flew open in shock at the litany of choice Welsh flowing from Ianto, to find Owen stood there, arms folded and a look of disgust on his face.

“You’re both perverts,” he said bluntly.

“Don’t be such a spoilsport, Owen,” Tosh said, barely moving.

“Do you have to have it on speaker?” Owen grumbled. “It’s bad enough knowing I’ll never have sex again, but to have to listen to Captain Innuendo and the tea-boy is more than I can handle.”

A strangled cry was heard, its meaning unmistakeable.

“Oh, come on!”

“I think Ianto just did,” Tosh said, her eyes shining.

Owen groaned in frustration. “Fuck this, I’m going home. There must be some shite on telly I can watch.”

He chucked his lab coat on his desk and was out the door far too quickly for any self-respecting zombie.

Gwen turned her attention to Tosh. “Do you think Jack would teach me how to give a blow job like that?”


End file.
